Grostenquin France

Wing Support
Believe It or Not

Here's your chance to "tell it like it was". There's a better than 50-50 chance that your story will probably fall into the category of "Believe It or Not". None the less - do you have a story to add to this section?

Fresh Flowers Anyone? - Story related by Bob Cooper: (1952-1957)

A certain young gentleman from Wing Supply was walking, amend that to read staggering, along a Paris street when he decided his bladder pressure needed adjusting. He entered a nearby hotel lobby, picked up a vase of flowers and removing the flowers relieved himself into it. He replaced the flowers in the vase and the vase on the table. There was an unrestricted view of the proceedings from the street through a clear glass window. As he rejoined his friends on the street he was heard to say "I would hate to be the chamber maid who has to change the water in that vase in the morning!".

The Greatest Party of All Times - Story related by Maurice-Andre "Johnny" Vigneault: (1952-1955)

Looking at all the pictures on your site, of parties at Ma's and elsewhere, reminded me of a real good one we had in 1957. 2 Wing crews were known to hold their liquor better than any crews at other Wings including 1 Air Div crews. I was at 1 Air Div Metz when we were invited, Norm Arcan and I, for a going-away party in honour of a departing friend from 2 Wing, Hank Carpini.

This was meant to be the greatest party of all times! So - the organizing crew at GT drove to Reims, the Champagne Capital, and brought back 75 bottles of great champagne, which, at that time, was not that expensive. They rented an Auberge's party room, in the vicinity of St-Avold, complete with bar and swimmning pool...outside. There were about 25 guests, most of them from 2 Wing. They heard we were coming, and without our knowing about it the party turned into a contest: 2 Wing vs 1 Air Div. We could have guessed that when some "friends" started to feed us slugs of schnapps in between glasses of champagne. But we caught on when offered beer in between - a deadly combination!

We wised up to the scheme and nodded to one another in a cautionary sign. We multiplied the toasts, sticking strickly to champagne. That heavenly elixir flowed generously in everyone's cup. It was not too long before someone wanted to cool off and took a stride outside - towards the pool. That started a snowball effect as some thought it would be a great way to sober up. Eventually, one fellow inadvertantly slipped into the pool while still fully dressed. There were many hands to help him out, but the number quickly decreased as they saw green slyme coming up as well. Was it a pool - or a drainage canal? One could hardly tell in the dark.

Anyway, that fellow was quickly despatched as a casuality of the contest back to the base. Then others found the same way back as they had reached their limit and the party thinned out until at around three when I was recruited to transport incapacitated participants in my huge 1953 4 door Buick sedan. Some may recall that it was advantageous to buy a large North American car in Brussels, since Belgium had imposed a heavy tax on large engines.

Some cars were left behind to be picked up the next day, but we loaded the remainding 6 bottles of champagne. The last one to deliver was Hank who was experiencing a revival and would not desist. It was his party! We uncorked one of the six, and more, and chatted until around daybreak. I left for a moment for the washroom and upon returning to Hank's room found Norm dozing on a chair and Hank passed out in his bed.

Hank was breathing heavenly bliss, so I shook Norm and signaled to him to give me a hand. We picked him up, mattress and blankets and all, and brought him outside where it was raining a heavy mist. We set him in the middle of the street in front of his barracks and all he could say was: "Isshh coool!" while pulling on his blanket to cover his head, not realizing what was happening. We then departed for Metz.

Very early that morning, as he always did, the 2 Wing CO was taking his drive around the base, in the rain, and he came upon Hank in the middle of the street, sleeping like an angel. We heard that the police and the ambulance were called on the scene.

I have to say though, that this was not a fair contest. As you see, we both had been stationed at GT from opening to 1955, during which time the real training was taking place. Hank was leaving GT anyway, so, nothing came of it. And the CO realized that the prank was not any worse than those perpetrated on visiting US pilots by his own pilots. Nevertheless, Norm and I never got promoted for a long time.

Two Guys - The Story Behind the Story - Story related by Maurice-Andre "Johnny" Vigneault: (1952-1955)

There is often a story behind an official story. In reading back through the 2 Wing Historical Reports I came upon an entry which was relating the force-landing of a section of 4 Sabres that flew south and ran out of fuel and had to use an emergency landing strip from which they could not take off. 2 Wing retreived the airplanes via road.

The story starts way back in the early days of GT, before the ADF (Automatic Direction Finding) was put in function at the Control Tower. Lacking a landing radar we were using a manually operated goniometre (manual direction finder) or a Homer as it was known, to help the Sabres return to base by providing the pilot with an angle of azimuth to steer in order to head home. It was also used to bring the aircrafts through the clouds and in line with the runway from say 20,000 feet, indicating to the pilot when he flew over the Station (station passage) so that he could begin his descent in a circular pattern while being guided with the Homer readings on his position. This was fine with slower propeller aircrafts, but with much faster jets, it was an art in itself.

There were only two Homer operators at GT, Pat Morrissey and myself, and we had to fill in a shift early in the morning to accommodate early missions, sometimes before dawn, and another shift that extended to the evening hours until dusk. We had been working for a period of 45 days without a day off (Telecom, NavAids, and Control Tower are 7 days-a-week jobs) when we decided one evening to take a break. After the flying was done, the Telecom truck came to pick us up, near runway 33, to bring us back to base. We indicated to the driver that we had a small errand to run at Lelling, the little village across from the button of runway 15. The driver took us to the end of the taxiway and we proceeded on foot towards Lelling and by crawling under the perimeter fence.

It was already dusk and when we returned. There had been a change of the guard on the dispersal points and the perimeter. The minute we infiltrated the perimeter fence there was shooting towards us from the guards who had all been instructed and alerted of spies and saboteurs around the base. We had a case of beer and some wine-and-cheers in a bag. We left the case at the fence and started running for the truck that was still waiting for us, with a very nervous driver in it. We told him to keep his lights off and he drove us back to the barracks before returning the vehicle to the Telecom section. Too late! The Tower had identified the Telecom truck and MPs were waiting for the driver. They brought him to the guardhouse, put him in a cell and questioned him on "who were the two other guys". They spent the night on him and by morning they proceeded with reading all the names of the personnel on base and if he'd answered no to everyone he was in a lot of trouble.

Soon after that, we got picked up and put on charge in front of our BTelO and one Admin Officer. We explained that we had been on shift for forty five consecutive days and needed a break. The BTelO was unaware of the situation and quite concerned about it. Therefore, we got off easy with some CB and CC.

Three more weeks of steady shiftwork and the Telecom Sergeant indicated that we could take some time off. He had organized our relief with one of the technicians who said that he knew the operation of the Homer.

Murphy strikes! A section of four Sabres returning to base from a mission, and with low fuel, requested a "Steer for Base"! as they wanted the most direct route to land. The weather was overcast and they had been flying above clouds. Unfortunately, the poor tech was lacking training in this domain and he steered the section to the south, away from the Base, by giving them a reciprocal bearing.

That, believe it or not, is the story behind the story! And the poor Telecom driver was seen walking around the base for days repeating "Who were the two guys?" - "Who were the two guys?" - "Who were the two guys?" - a question he had heard for an entire night.

The "Pink" T-Bird - Story Related by KC Lett, former OC of 416 Squadron.

We at 2 Wing had a very close and friendly relationship with our USAF friends at Chaumont in eastern France. Among other things held in common, we agreed that we suffered from a lack of amenities compared with our brothers in Germany. To brighten things up a bit over the winter of 1955, we invited the Chaumont wing to Grostenquin. They arrived on a Friday afternoon with their trusty F-86s, and, what with partying and other factors, I regret to say that they were still with us a week later. To say the least, the visit had been a resounding success, with appropriate entertainment imported from France, fabulous food, and beer brought in from Bavaria by the keg. Our CO, G/C Bill Weiser, and the USAF commander were both taken somewhat aback by the entertainment and shenanigans of their boys but, good leaders that they were, did the "grin and bear it" thing and did nothing to spoil the fun.

Our Chaumont friends soon prevailed upon their commander to have us over for a return engagement. That got under way on Friday, May 24, 1955. As a result of trouble they had getting all their aircraft back home and serviceable from 2 Wing, our commander, A/V/M Hugh Campbell, decided to limit the number of aircraft we could take to Chaumont. To offset things, he loaned us his personal Dakota. Along with out own Expeditor, flown by G/C Wieser, the Dakota filled the gap. Everyone was satisfied, except a certain Sabre squadron commander. For him, nothing less than a T-33 would do.

As I recall, I found something to keep me terribly busy until the transport had departed, then created something of a crisis as a pretence to borrow a T-bird to catch up with them. I was accompanied by F/O Tex MacDonald of 416. The trip down was routine, except that on arrival I was directed to a spot in the dispersal area. This was very odd, as these were normally very secure areas and not used for parking transient aircraft.

Only the next day did I discover why I had been directed into a secure area, well hidden from the base complex. It seems that the USAF had done some detailed planning on how to "one up" the RCAF following our winter thrash. The idea was to swap a J47 from one of their F-86Fs for an Orenda from one of our Mark 5s. Apparently engine mounts etc. were similar, and the USAF was prepared for whatever adjustments were necessary. So, with a crew of high-priced technicians standing by and no RCAF Sabres, their plan went down the drain. Instead they decided on a lesser scheme – to repaint my T-33. This was beautifully accomplished in US Navy blue, complete with all the detailed decals. Tip tanks, and speed breaks were done in pink, with the Russian hammer and sickle emblem on each wing tip.

The "Pink T-Bird" on the ramp at Grostenquin - Courtesy Barney Beaulieu.